


Rain From Heaven

by saunteringsnake



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 6000 Years of Pining, 6000 Years of Slow Burn, Confessions, First Kiss, Idk what to even do with them tbh, M/M, POV Crowley (Good Omens), They are too stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 12:40:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19209631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saunteringsnake/pseuds/saunteringsnake
Summary: Once a millennium, Crowley allows himself to be bad. For him, bad means inviting an angel out on a picnic. It's the six thousandth anniversary of the day he fell in love with Aziraphale, but it's not like he's gonna tell the angel that. However, Aziraphale has a surprising revelation about what this day means to him.





	Rain From Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> This is mainly based on the show, it's been a minute since I've read the book. I did scooch the timeline a little, but it was in pursuit of gayness so I hope you'll forgive me.

Rain pounded down on the pavement. Thunder rolled and lightning flashed. Traditional “I’m up to no good” sort of weather. Crowley needed a favor. A big one. He steeled himself and dialed the number of the most powerful entity he knew.

 

“ _ Hullo?” _

 

“It’s me,” the demon hissed discreetly.

 

“ _ Ah, Mr. Crow! Need something?”  _ The voice of the creature on the other end was deceptively soft and high. Crowley shivered. He knew what this being was capable of.

 

“Listen, if it isn’t too much trouble, I’d like your assistance. This rainstorm over London… Think you can persuade it to blow away? It’s too much for me to get a handle on.”

 

“ _ Hm, I dunno Mr. Crow, this is your second call this summer. It’s gonna cost you… ” _

 

“Last one, I promise. Name your price, Great One.”

 

The Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of This World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan and Lord of Darkness, considered what he would like.

 

“ _ A new bike. Loads of gears, a horn, a bell, a headlight, bright blue, and with a place for Dog to sit when he gets tired. It has to be the best bike  _ ever _. Do we have a deal?” _

 

“Bike, blue, horn, bell, the works,” Crowley muttered, jotting this all down. “Yep, got it, boss.”

 

“ _ Alright, I’ll get on that as soon as I’ve had lunch. Dad’s grilling. You and uncle Zira should visit soon! The gang went wild for those fireworks you brought last time. Just… no magic tricks from uncle Zira, yeah?” _

 

Crowley scoffed and rolled his yellow eyes.

 

“As if I can stop him.” Just one more impossibly embarrassing, impossibly adorable thing the angel did. It drove him out of his demonic mind. He hoped Aziraphale never stopped.

 

“ _ Suppose so. ‘Kay, see ya, Mr. Crow!”  _ Adam ended in a sing-song voice.

 

Crowley hung up and let out a sigh of relief. Today was special, and the heavens needed to cooperate with  _ his  _ Ineffable Plan. It was an occasion he only celebrated once every thousand years, after all, so it was important to him to get it right.

 

It was still storming on his drive to the bike shop, but by the time Crowley walked out with a bike much nicer than any the store actually offered, the sun was shining and the air felt cool and clean.

 

Crowley dialed another number as he wrestled the bike into the backseat of his car. He had immediately removed the bicycle rack Aziraphale had added, and putting it back on would be admitting that the angel was right.

 

“ _ Hello, this is Aziraphale, to whom am I speaking _ ?”

 

“It’s me, angel.” 

 

“ _ Oh, hello dear boy, I was just thinking of you, _ ” Aziraphale said, instantly as warm as a summer day in Tadfield. 

 

Crowley had actually invented texting because having the angel speak directly into his ear made him feel… confused. But trust Aziraphale to cling to his landline. Crowley played it very cool, very close to the vest. 

 

“D’youwannagoonapicnicwme?”

 

“ _ Pardon, what was that?” _

 

Crowley silently did a large gesture that translated roughly to  _ What the hell, get it together you absolute shit! _

 

“The weather! It seems to have cleared up. Would you like to go on a little picnic with me? Meet at the statue of Anteros? I’ve got some raspberry cheesecake in my fridge. I  _ could  _ bring macarons,” the demon offered. The picnic was actually something the angel had suggested sixty years ago, and Crowley hadn’t forgotten.

 

“ _ From Paris?”  _ Aziraphale asked hopefully. Crowley could almost hear the twinkle in his eye.

 

“It would be an insult to Parisians everywhere to get them anywhere else.”

 

“ _ Shall I bring champagne? I’ve still got a bottle from 1715.” _

 

Now Crowley was the one being tempted. They had shared a different bottle of the same vintage on what could be considered a very romantic night 300 years ago and Crowley was both uneasy and pleased that the angel had thought to get another.

 

“That would be excellent, love, yes.”

 

_ “Certainly! ...Wait -” _

 

“Seeyouthereciao!”

 

_ Click. _

 

_ WHY? Why did you have to call him “love” out loud?! _

 

To be quite honest, it was something Crowley had been referring to Aziraphale as privately in his head for about two thousand years now. But he had never said it. “Love” was a four letter word to him, even if it  _ was _ referring to the most important person in his pathetic life. Crowley had a strong urge to douse himself in holy water. But he wasn’t about to stand the angel up on the six thousandth anniversary of the day they met. What was the traditional gift for the sixth anniversary anyway? Probably something stupid like wood, or aluminum, or diamonds. It technically wasn’t even a holiday that they celebrated together, because technically Crowley had never mentioned that that’s what this  _ was _ . By very good fortune, they had found themselves together on the first three, and Crowley had asked Aziraphale to spend the day with him for these last three, without letting on that it was a special occasion. There were a lot of careful boundaries that Crowley had built between them over the centuries, but this was the one indulgence he allowed himself. It felt far too dangerous, but perhaps the demon in him just craved that.

 

As he was working through this tangent of thought he was packing up the sweets, rather more violently than was needed. The box of macarons went skittering off the edge of the antique table and onto the floor. 

 

“Oh, for the love of God- ugh, Satan,” Crowley corrected himself. He miracled the macarons back into the box unscathed. The plants were the only witnesses to this slip up.

 

“Don’t you  _ dare  _ tell anyone about what you’ve heard here today,” he menaced, but it was rather half-hearted. The plants trembled a little anyways, more out of habit than actual fear.

 

Crowley had also gotten Aziraphale an anniversary present, and he packed it with a little more care. He had wrapped it in newspaper to make it seem more casual, but it was a rare first edition that Aziraphale had had his eye on for a while and he’d had to raise hell to get it. 

 

Crowley gave a last quick check to his hair, left the flat, and snapped his fingers to lock the door behind him. He jogged down the stairs and unceremoniously tossed the picnic basket in the front seat of the Bentley. Getting anywhere in London was much easier when one was willing to drive 90 miles per hour, so Crowley was at their meeting place in two shakes of a snake’s tail and one illegal parking job later. 

 

And there Aziraphale was in the center of the world. He was Crowley’s whole reason for continuing to exist. The angel turned to him and waved, doing a little bounce on the balls of his feet. He had a tartan picnic blanket and a rather flamboyant umbrella over his arm (“Always be prepared!”). Seeing him stand there in the evening sun, Crowley understood why humans always thought angels were glowing with heavenly light. Even with sunglasses, the demon felt momentarily blinded. 

 

Above the angel was a second angel: the statue of Anteros, god of requited love. He stood rather cockily on one foot, his arrow pointed directly at Crowley’s heart.  _ Yeah, yeah, you already got me. Trying hitting  _ him  _ next time, you bronze bastard! _

 

“Good evening, Crowley!” Aziraphale craned his head to try to look behind the demon. “Is that a bicycle in your backseat?”

 

“Ah, yes, some small hellish business with an old colleague, nothing important enough for you to thwart” the demon lied quickly.

 

Aziraphale gave him  _ that _ look, the one that meant he suspected Crowley of shenanigans, but was going to let it slide.

 

“So, where are we off to? Green Park? You know how I adore the flowers there.”

 

“Of course. The tulips are in pre-bloom right now. Supposed to be even more beautiful than full bloom.”

 

“Shall we?” Aziraphale offered Crowley his arm. Crowley hesitated. This would be crossing one of his boundaries, big time. Crowley aimed for as little physical contact as possible. He could count on three hands and the number of times they had touched, and every single instance was burned into his memory. But in the year after the world didn’t end, things had gotten very… difficult. They had been spending more time together, and Aziraphale had become even more frustratingly kind. He was always fixing Crowley’s clothes, and was always “just popping by” and saying things like “this made me think of you.” Crowley had a natural tendency towards self-destruction, but this was the one thing he never wanted to mess up. Six thousand years of friendship wasn’t something one threw away in an evening. And getting any closer  _ hurt _ . But  _ oh _ , how tempted he was. It was his one special day once a millenium, and if he was going to Hell anyway…

 

He took the angel’s arm like he was Leonardo Dicaprio clinging to a wood door. If he was going to drown, he at least wanted Aziraphale to be the last thing he saw.

 

They walked step in step and arm in arm, down the street and through the park. Aziraphale prattled on about the people they passed, the books he had been reading, and his thoughts on a vinyl Crowley had lent him. The demon listened the best he could, but half of his brain power was fixated on the slight pressure of Aziraphale’s arm on his. It was just so  _ comfortable _ . And he was so unused to comfort that it made him uneasy.

 

They reached the edge of the tulip garden, under a large oak that they had watched grow from a sapling. Aziraphale laid down their picnic blanket in a sunny patch, as gently as a bird’s wing. He unpacked the picnic basket as well, exclaiming when he found the present. It looked like garbage because of the wrapping, but Aziraphale was delighted nonetheless. 

 

“Is this for me? Darling, you shouldn’t have!” Aziraphale looked at him like a puppy waiting for permission. By this point, Crowley was lounging on his side at the edge of the picnic blanket.

 

“Yeeeah, go on then.” Crowley was glad that he had to wear sunglasses to hide his eyes because even the most oblivious angel would notice the look he was giving him. 

 

Aziraphale carefully unwrapped the present by pulling off each individual piece of tape and folding up and smoothing the newspaper. 

 

“Oh,” he gasped, placing a hand on his chest. “I’ve wanted this one for quite a while, how touching of you to remember. You’re a very thoughtful demon, you know. Thank you.”

 

Crowley chuckled weakly. “Don’t let my ex-bosses hear you say that, I’ll never get hired back.”

 

“I got you a little something, too, but it’s nowhere near as good.”

 

The angel produced a small package from his coat that was wrapped in crisp, white wrapping paper. The bow was perfectly centered, and the little gift tag read “to my dearest Crowley” in a lovely looping cursive.

 

It was a little stack of CDs of a few of Crowley’s current favorite indie bands, all of them with covers signed by the band members. He was sure he would enjoy all of their renditions of Bohemian Rhapsody in his Bentley in two weeks. But what Crowley didn’t understand was  _ why  _ Aziraphale had gotten him anything. Aziraphale  _ was  _ always just getting him little presents, but this was a fair bit nicer. Stupid, kind angel. Apparently the world’s near end had only made him more doting.

 

“These are great, angel, thanks.”

 

“You’re very welcome.”

 

Aziraphale stroked the cover of his new book fondly. How Crowley wished he were a leather-bound first edition.

 

“You know, there’s some very pretty poetry in here. Would you like me to read a few to you?”

 

Crowley pretended to resist, but there was nothing he loved more than hearing the angel read aloud. Sometimes Aziraphale would sit at Crowley’s living room table and read his favorite passages out while Crowley tended to his plants in the other room. Crowley practically drowned the poor buggers in order to draw the time out, but the gentle sound of Aziraphale’s voice perked the ferns right back up again.

 

“Ok, but don’t blame me if I fall asleep,” Crowley shrugged.

 

Aziraphale pulled out his reading glasses and perched him on the tip of his nose just so. He leaned back against the trunk of the tree and patted his thighs. 

 

Crowley raised an eyebrow.

 

“If you want to take a nap, you may as well be comfortable. Come rest your head in my lap. I promise I’m quite soft.”

 

Ok, this was getting ridiculous. This was too much. What the heaven was he supposed to do in the face of such sweetness? This was also getting  _ dangerous _ . With his head in Aziraphale’s lap he’d be less than two feet from his face and it would take every ounce of his self control not to reach up and touch the angel’s lips. He was going to have to go to his bad place, bring himself back down.  _ Snails coming out of my mouth... seaweed touching my foot... The Sound of Music... snails coming out of my butt.  _ Deep breath. He couldn’t say no, though. The angel could tell him to fling himself off the nearest cliff and he’d do it. 

 

He slithered across the blanket to the angel and carefully,  _ carefully _ laid his head on Aziraphale’s lap. Aziraphale rested his left arm across Crowley’s chest with the book in his hands perched on his knees, effectively trapping him. Crowley went very,  _ very  _ still. And Aziraphale read. The years had made him an excellent reader and the words flowed off his tongue like he was weaving a spell. He certainly had  _ one  _ snake charmed. 

 

Crowley's heart was about to burst out of his chest. He wished he had some floorboards to bury it under because right now it was beating directly against Aziraphale's elbow. Could he feel it? Did he know? Aziraphale’s lap  _ was  _ comfortable, and if he had been anyone else Crowley would’ve drifted off to sleep, but as it was he was wide awake. In fact, he was on such high alert, that when Aziraphale started to run his hand through Crowley’s hair he sat bolt upright.

 

“I’m sorry, did I startle you?”

 

He had.

 

“Uh, no, I just remembered that we should crack open this champagne. Y’know, before it gets…” he trailed off.

 

“Warm?” Aziraphale offered helpfully.

 

Crowley nodded stiffly and popped the cork. He couldn’t get plastered on just one bottle, but it certainly wouldn’t hurt to down a few glasses. He was definitely getting wasted for a week after this.

 

While the skies had been clear all evening, one rather pesky little cloud had snuck up and it began to sprinkle. Crowley glared up at the heavens. He wasn’t ready for this day to end.

 

_ Adam, I will destroy you. Kiss the bike goodbye. _

 

“Come now, a little rain won’t spoil our fun! Now I’m glad that I brought my trusty umbrella. Come, scooch under here with me,” Aziraphale suggested as he popped the umbrella open.

 

Crowley scooched as much as he dared. He poured their drinks with only a slight tremble in his hand. Aziraphale kneeled seiza style, with the umbrella over them like a parasol, and Crowley leaned back on his elbow. They clinked glasses.

 

“To many more happy anniversaries,” the angel toasted them.

 

Champagne shot out of Crowley’s nose.

 

“Oh my, are you alright?” Aziraphale was already pulling his hanky out and trying to dab at Crowley’s sopping face, but Crowley waved him off.

 

“Down the wrong pipe, as the humans say!” Crowley joked weakly.

 

_ What in Satan’s name was that!? _ There was no way in heaven Aziraphale  _ knew  _ about their anniversary. Unless, perhaps Aziraphale had been marking the days since the beginning of their friendship. The angel certainly was sentimental, and he supposed it was the kind of thing he might care about. Maybe that was what he meant. Yes, that had to be it.

 

“I know it’s only been a year, but I think things have been going exceedly well, don’t you?”

 

Nope, not it. Crowley wracked his brains for what Aziraphale could be talking about, but he only seemed to have one brain cell left. Where on this God-forsaken planet had he been a year ago?  _ Ah _ . He had it.

 

“Oh yeah, one year today since we saved the Earth, eh?”

 

“No, silly, that was one year yesterday. I meant the anniversary of our relationship.”

 

Snakes are built long and lean, but they eat mainly large round animals. Their lower jaws are connected by a stretchy ligament, which means their mouths can open wider than their bodies. This is what allows them to swallow their prey whole. Pythons are able to open their mouths wide enough to swallow an adult human. This is precisely how Crowley looked right now, with his jaw entirely dropped.

 

“Crowley, you are really not yourself today!” the angel exclaimed, concerned. “What’s the matter?”

 

“We… we’re not. Since when have we…?”

 

“Dear?”

 

“We’re not… in a relationship. I think I would’ve known…” His mind raced.

 

Now Aziraphale became even more concerned. 

 

“Not in a relationship? I don’t understand! Did I do something wrong?” Aziraphale’s voice began to rise in pitch. “Did you get amnesia? Can demons get amnesia?”

 

“When.”

 

“When?”

 

“When did I… you… when was our first date?”

 

“Well, the day after the world ended,” Aziraphale explained slowly. “We had just switched bodies back.  _ You  _ said that our sides would leave us alone together. You leaned over and you asked me to dinner.”

 

“Eh, but that wasn’t! I mean… I ask you to dinner all the time! As… colleagues, friends! Not… boyfriends!”

 

“It was the Ritz!” Aziraphale exclaimed, wringing his hands.

 

“Because  _ you  _ suggested it!”

 

“We sat on the same side of the table!”

 

“You moved  _ your  _ chair!”

 

“...”

 

“...”

 

The rain pattered down on their umbrella.

 

Crowley thought very hard through everything that had happened the past year. Every touch, every visit, every gift, every dinner. This  _ whole time _ Aziraphale had been taking care of him and loving him, and he had just written it off as Aziraphale being  _ good.  _ He had gotten what he always dreamed of and he hadn’t even noticed.  _ I must be the stupidest creature on this Earth. _

 

“I must be the  _ stupidest  _ creature on this Earth!” Aziraphale gasped. He was crying now, huge wet tears that tumbled down his face. “I fabricated this whole relationship out of  _ nothing! _ I mean, I’ve loved you since you rescued me from the Nazis in 1941, but I wasn’t ready! I told you, in 1967, that  _ you _ moved too fast for  _ me _ ! But really I’ve had it all  _ entirely  _ backwards. I thought all this year that you were trying to be careful with me because of that, but you never wanted me at all! I’m so mortified! I’m just a silly, silly angel, looking for love where there isn’t any. And now” he sobbed, “I’ve ruined the only friendship I’ve ever had and I’m going to spend eternity alone!”

 

Crowley did something he had never done before, something snakes and demons weren’t supposed to be able to do. He cried. It was only one tear from each eye, but they emerged from behind his glasses and left large streaky tracks on his cheeks.

 

The demon reached forward and tried to wipe away Aziraphale’s gushing tears with his thumb.

 

“I’m so sorry, Aziraphale. I’m the who fucked this up,” Crowley said in a husky voice.

 

“That’s very sweet of you, Crowley, to try to comfort me, but that only makes it worse.” The angel stood up very abruptly. “I think I need to be alone for a century or so. You can have my umbrella, I don’t want you to get wet because of me.”

 

Aziraphale bent over to hand him the umbrella, but Crowley reached up and caught his hand instead. For a moment, they looked rather like a desperate version of The Creation of Adam. Each reached towards the other, with heaven and hell behind them and all the space in the world between them.

 

“Aziraphale, please, listen to me,” Crowley begged. 

 

“I’d rather not, thank you.” Aziraphale tried to pull away.

 

“I didn’t realize we were together, but it’s because we always  _ have  _ been. I was too wrapped up in my own feelings to see it. I kept trying to push you away because I didn’t think someone as good as you would ever love someone like me.”

 

Aziraphale stilled.

 

“Angel, it’s always been you. When you gave away your flaming sword, I knew that we had more in common with each other than we ever did with our own sides. You say that  _ I’ve _ rescued  _ you _ , but you were the one who’s always sheltered me from the rain. I’ve loved you since the day we met.”

 

“I don’t understand... You love me? You’ve... always... loved me?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Everything was golden, golden, golden. Aziraphale was pulling Crowley up and Crowley was pulling Aziraphale down until they met in the middle on their knees and they were kissing and crying and laughing with relief. Aziraphale had dropped his umbrella on the way down and the rain poured over them. It dripped off of their eyelashes and they kissed the drops off of each other’s lips. The rain washed all of their tears away. They clung to each other like the world was ending all over again. It felt like some final bit of imbalance from a year ago had finally righted itself. 

 

Just as Crowley was starting to think that that scene from  _ The Notebook  _ was a bit overrated, the rain stopped. It seemed it was actually just one very small cloud causing the downpour and it skittered away to catch up with the rest of the flock.

 

They miracled each other dry and Aziraphale tentatively fixed Crowley’s hair for him. Crowley just grinned back at him, finally able to enjoy it.

 

“I still feel rather foolish about this past year,” Aziraphale admitted sheepishly.

 

“Then let’s fix that,” Crowley said, quietly earnest. “We’ll go through every single day and I’ll tell you everything I would’ve said and everything I would’ve done and that’s how we’ll remember it.”

 

“You mean rewrite our history?”

 

“I’ve got to make up for lost time somehow.”

 

“... Yes, I would like that. Shall we start with today?”

 

“Sure-”

 

* _ He’s a cold hearted snake, lookin’ into his eyes*  _ Crowley’s ringtone blared.

 

He hit silence.

 

* _ Oh, oh! He’s been telling lies. He’s a lover boy at play*  _ Paula Abdul continued.

 

Crowley swiped to decline.

 

* _ He don’t play by the rules. Oh, oh, oh! Girl don’t play the fool now!* _

 

Crowley finally checked the caller ID. 

 

“ _ Adam, _ ” Crowley hissed. “Could you excuse me for just one tiny little moment?” Crowley asked tightly.

 

“Of course. We have all the time in the world,” Aziraphale smiled.

 

_ Satan, give me strength. _

 

Crowley took Aziraphale’s hand and accepted the call.

 

“Hey, uh, Adam, what the heaven is up? Kinda  _ right  _ in the middle of something right now.”

 

“ _ I was calling about the bike, I thought maybe we could change it to a trampoline. The gang and I want to play astronauts. Are you still on your date with uncle Zira or something?” _

 

“I- kind of- how did you know about that?”

 

“ _ Well, it’s your anniversary isn’t it? You’d be a pretty crappy boyfriend if you didn’t take him out. And you asked me to clear up the rain!” _

 

“Oh, uh, yeah, about that. I think ya missed one there, we still got dumped on.”

 

“ _ Nah, that was on purpose! I thought uncle Zira would like it if you got caught in the rain like all those old movies he likes. I don’t know why he likes them, it’s just a bunch of people kissing and nothing ever gets blown up. I told him to bring his umbrella so it can’t have been all that bad. Besides, you never even wished me a happy birthday so I think you deserved that a bit, so there!” _

 

“Adam…” Crowley cast a sidelong glance at the angel who was running his thumb over the back of Crowley’s. “You’re right. I owe you, big time. How about Zira and I come over next weekend. We’ll bring icecream cake and oodles of presents and do it up big. Just let me know what you’d like and I’ll make it happen.”

 

_ “Well Brian was telling me about these Nerf guns that can shoot fifty feet, and I’ve always wanted a skateboard and-” _

 

“Send me a list, boss, gotta go!” and Crowley hung up.

 

He rubbed a hand over his long, tired face. That Antichrist was going to be the death of him.

 

“You know, I liked very much when you called me ‘Zira’. I think that’s quite cute coming from you,” the angel remarked cheerfully.

 

“He  _ told you _ to bring an umbrella?” Crowley asked accusingly.

 

Aziraphale was immediately sheepish again.

 

“He called right after you did,” the angel admitted quietly. “He said he ‘had info’ on our date tonight.”

 

“And what did it cost you?”

 

“... A pair of headphones by a man called ‘Doctor Dre.’”

 

“And all you got out of that was “bring an umbrella”? He played you for a sucker.”

 

“Perhaps. But I rather think it was worth it,” Aziraphale said, looking at Crowley from under his eyelashes. “I got you, after all. For real, this time.”

 

Crowley melted.

 

“So,” Crowley said, stroking the angel’s cheek. “Where were we?”

 

Aziraphale leaned in to the touch and put a hand over Crowley’s.

 

“I think…” He paused to kiss Crowley’s palm. “We were talking about today and yesterday and all of the eternity that came before.”

 

And they talked. They analyzed every minute they had spent together over the year. Every moment when they would’ve kissed, every moment when they would’ve said they loved each other, every look, every touch, every word. They told each other all the secrets they would’ve whispered to each other in the bookstore’s back room. They estimated all the hours they would’ve spent driving nowhere in Crowley’s car. They planned all the vacations they would’ve taken all across the world and the cosmos.

 

The sun set. It rose again. It set and rose three more times, but neither of them were particularly interested in  _ that  _ celestial body. 

 

They spent another two days just holding each other, oblivious to the world.

 

On the seventh day, they finally disentangled themselves from each other.

 

“So, angel, time to leave the garden?”

 

Aziraphale sighed, and stopped twirling Crowley’s hair around his finger.

 

“I suppose so,” he pouted.

 

“My place?” Crowley suggested.

 

“Oh, well that would be alright then. I’m not ready to be away from you just yet.”

 

“Zira… We never have to be apart ever again.”

 

Aziraphale giggled and perked up. 

 

“I suppose I didn’t consider that. How silly of me.”

 

They walked back to the Bentley arm in arm. It had miraculously not been towed, and Crowley tossed the parking tickets on the ground. Aziraphale immediately picked them up and put them in his coat to pay them later.

 

“You know, that statue of Anteros has always reminded me a bit of Adam for some reason. I’m not sure why.” Aziraphale said as he got into the front seat.

 

“No, you’re right, I see it too,” Crowley agreed. The demon gave it a tiny salute.  _ Thanks, Adam. _

 

They drove to Crowley’s place in silence, but Crowley kept a hand on Aziraphale’s thigh. This was difficult to do in a stick shift, but he managed it with only a few near-accidents.

 

They parked, but neither of them made a move to get out of the car.

 

“Well, what now?” Aziraphale asked.

 

Crowley swallowed. He felt like he had a frog in his throat.

 

“Now, I pop the question?”

 

Aziraphale smoothed his clothes and turned to face Crowley.

 

“Yes, go on then.”

 

“Will you come away with me to Alpha Centauri?”

 

“Yes. Yes, my dear, I’ll follow you anywhere.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! (And btw they did totally forget about Adam, poor kid lol)


End file.
